


Rise

by snowflake777



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, M/M, Nightmares, POV Keith (Voltron), Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soft Keith (Voltron), Soft Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26945179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowflake777/pseuds/snowflake777
Summary: Nothing much to this, just a simple morning cuddle.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	Rise

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been writing much lately due to these "emotions", but at least here's something I blurted out right after waking up.
> 
> Not beta read though.

The war has ended.

Living creatures across all galaxies and multiverses are as peaceful as they could get.

Maybe it was the work of countless other voltrons in the multiverses too. Maybe it was luck, they found the one speck of dust among them all.

But in this particular universe, in a specific land, specific house, and specific room, Keith watches the sunrise ever so slowly, taking its time as he remembers the days or quintants where he only imagined it in the void of space.

He leans forward, resting his head on both folded arms by the window sill. Clean air filled with fresh morning life greets him. It's quiet, but different from space. He's used to hearing engines whirring in the background, walls echoing and groaning, other machineries voices ever so present. Being back with birds chirping playfully, natural wind passing by, the soft colour of the sky and crickets gradually falling asleep as the day begins, it's like a hazy dream to him.

Sometimes dusts would dance in the ray light across the room, turning it into ancient ruins of household treasures. There are old clothes still lying around the floor, crinkled piloting books stacked in the corner, white walls with scribbles on it, an action figure right beside him on the window sill, and dozens of other stuff they haven't put away yet. This room has a life of its own. It's well used by its owner.

Usually— or in the last few days, he would wake up to a heavenly smell and someone mumbling to himself as he tried to figure out how to use the new stove Pidge gave them without burning down the house. Or there would be small kisses sprinkled on his face that tickles him awake.

Among the mess full of history is a single bed with posters on the wall not far from where he is. He leans back, far enough to see a mop of brunette hair poking out from the bundle. The slight rise and fall on the blanket always gives life. He finds himself following the rhythm as well.

Something tugs his chest, seeing him completely at peace considering what happened last night. The terrors of war were what they were left and now they're forced to go back into a normal life. The sight of him in this cozy house, cozy room was enough for Keith to call it a normal life.

It didn't last long though. The restless shuffles and him curling up further in the blankets makes Keith leave the window and pulls the fabrics to let some air in for him. He was frowning uncomfortably in his sleep.

Keith slides inside the blankets. He tangles their feet together and puts one arm on top of his heart. It was beating a bit too fast.

"Lance," he says quietly, "come back to me."

After a few attempts, he gasps slightly. His whole body slowly dissolves with each breath. Keith keeps on rubbing the length of his arm before he abruptly turns from the wall to bury his face into his chest. Keith opens his mouth to ask something but stops when he feels his frame trembling and something wet pooling his shirt.

"You're back here on earth, in your room, on your bed with me" he says, "you're safe."

He nodded against his chest, so Keith gathered all of him into his arms as much of Lance as he could possibly hold.

A hug won't chase the monsters away, but maybe it would remind him that he's not alone in the dark, that  _ they _ are not alone in the dark.

And so even if the sun is rising outside, the two paladins beg for the war in them to end.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not always online but here's my tumblr
> 
> purple-hunter


End file.
